


Driven

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-30
Updated: 2003-08-30
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11128464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Another response to the Summer of '79 challenge at ds Flashfiction, only this time without quite so much Stella. What we have here is a teenage Ray out late with his best friend.





	Driven

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Driven

## Driven

by witchbaby

Author's website: http://www.happyfriendbox.com

Disclaimer: The DS guys aren't mine.

Author's Notes: 

Story Notes: 

* * *

The street is dark this late at night and the neighborhood is quiet. It feels good, it feels relaxed, just walking and smoking after we've taken the girls home. They have early curfews, mostly because they're with us. Have to be home by 11, even on weekends, I think because their parents think we're bad influences, Tony and I. That if we keep them out later than that, something bad will happen. Stella's parents can't stand seeing me out with their lovely, perfect daughter, the one who will do nothing wrong. That's what they think, at least. They're not far from wrong, actually, but that doesn't mean they know her. She _is_ a good girl, and she likes me because she thinks I'm a bad boy. But that doesn't mean she knows me. 

I take another drag of my cigarette and look sideways at Tony. "You and Rachel have a good time at the movie tonight?" 

He grins a little, and pushes his hair back with one hand as he looks at me. "Pretty good." 

They always sit behind us, when the four of us go to the movies together. Tony doesn't have a car, and mine is busted again, waiting for me to get the money together to get it fixed. So the movies is a pretty good, dark place where we can get some time with our girls. The back seat of a car is better. Stella's been in the back seat of my car with me before. But she's a good girl, and I'm not as bad a boy as her parents think. What we do back there is kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and her body is under mine, soft, and she smells really good, and her hair is spread out everywhere. She runs her hands over my back but nowhere else. She's a good girl. And I hold her in my arms, and she presses up hard against me, but we don't go further than that, not even in the back seat. 

Tony and Rachel, though... I look at him again. I think about them there behind us in the dark theater. I think about me kissing Stella in front of them and I wonder how far Rachel lets him go. I think about her letting him touch her, touch her breasts, and maybe even letting him reach up under her skirt. I think about how warm Stella is down there, when we're in the back seat together and my leg slides between hers. How she arches up against me and I can tell she wants to go further, wants to but won't. 

I'm getting hard, just from thinking about it, gotta slow my stride. She does this to me, gets me worked up all the fucking time and then we stop. It's okay. I'm okay with waiting. I think we _should_ wait. I think I'm lucky to be with her at all. But still...it gets real frustrating. 

Tony watches me out of the corner of his eye as he smokes, and I think he knows what I'm thinking, about him and Rachel, me and Stella. Tony and I don't have to say much, when we're together. He knows me real well, and I don't really have to figure out the words to say. 

"Movie theaters...not the best place for a real good time, though." He takes a drag off his cigarette and looks at me. "Only so far you can go." 

He knows that Stella is a good girl, and he knows that I won't push her on it. Tony thinks it's funny that Stella is with me. Says I don't look like her type. Or that maybe she doesn't look like _my_ type. He said that once, running his hand over my spiked-up hair. Tony's taller than me, a real good-looking guy. It's no surprise that Rachel's with him, even though she's from a real nice family like Stella's and his family is...not so nice. Tony's got this dark hair, dark eyes deal that girls really fall for. All he's gotta do is look at them with those eyes. He doesn't even have to say nothing, mostly. Just looks at them, real dark and deep, and they are gone, baby, gone. 

We get to my house and circle around to the back. My curfew's not for another hour and Tony doesn't have any curfew at all. I don't want to go in yet, though, and the house is dark and quiet. Tony and I, we sit down on the back steps. I light another cigarette and lean back, blowing the smoke up to the sky, watch it floating away in the darkness. I think about tonight, about Stella, about Tony watching me kiss her while he kisses Rachel. I'm still hard, and I know I will be till I take care of it after I head up to bed. 

Tony watches me, smiles. "She really gets you all hot 'n bothered, huh?" he asks. 

"Oh, yeah," I sigh, looking over at him. "Every time." 

He nods, still smiling. Gets up and leans against the railing of the porch. Lights a cigarette. "Yeah, Rachel won't put out, either." 

"Chicks, huh?" I say, trying to be cool. This is what we do, this is what we talk about. I like that we're going through this the same way, getting the same runaround. I can't help but think, though, that he could have anyone he wanted, if he tried. Maybe he's not such a bad boy either. 

"Yeah," he says softly, looking down at me in the dark. "Chicks." He takes another drag and blows the smoke out slow. Even in the dark, I can see those eyes, that he pulls girls in with. Real dark, just like the night, and he's looking at me as he leans there. It's real quiet and I'm still hard and I can feel my heart beating the way it does when it's me and Stella in the back seat. 

I swallow and run a hand through my hair. Pull my eyes away from his. Take a quick drag and crush my cigarette out under my shoe. I get up and stand there awkwardly. Still hard, so hard it hurts, and I just want to get upstairs, so I can take care of it. A few quick strokes is all it's going to take tonight, I can tell. 

"I should go in," I say, gesturing lamely towards the back door, where the kitchen lies dark and quiet beyond. 

"Yeah," he says, still looking at me so intently. "You should." 

* * *

I don't move though. He drops his cigarette and crushes it out, takes two steps towards me. Stops for a second, and this close, his eyes are really something you can get lost in, even in the dark. He grins and shakes his head a little. "Why are you still here?" he whispers. 

I don't move. I don't think I even breathe. He puts his hands on my hips and I take a stumbling step closer and I'm pressed up against him. Then his lips are on mine and he's kissing me and christ, what the fuck is this? He tastes like smoke and I like it. His tongue is in my mouth and I like it. I don't know how I did this, how it happened, but I'm kissing him back, and it's fierce and it's hot and it's nothing, nothing like kissing Stella. 

When we break apart, our gasps for air sounding real loud in the darkness, I realize he's got me pressed back against the porch railing. My hands clutch at his hips, at his jeans, at his ass. He's up against me hard, pressed right up against me, his leg shoved between mine, rocking gently against my erection. I realize with a start that what I feel against my leg is _his_ erection, his cock, up hard against me. He's watching me, still, so close in the dark. 

"Don't worry," he breathes, and I can feel his breath hot against my cheek. "I'm not a cock-tease." And he drops to his knees in front of me. I reach back to grasp hold of the porch railing, feel the wood bite into my hands as I grip it tight. Tony, on his knees in front of me, runs his hand over the front of my pants. I bite my lip, hard, to stifle a moan. He looks up at me then, and raises an eyebrow. It's all I can do to keep breathing. 

Then he undoes my jeans, yanks the zipper down, and reaches in, pulls my cock out. I'm so fucking hard here, I can't even think. I clutch harder at the railing and the only thing going through my head is *do it, do it, fuck, just *do _it_. And he does. He braces himself with his hands on my hips and puts his mouth on my cock. My breathing is harsh in the night and I pray to fucking God that my parents are sound asleep. He swallows my cock down, far as he can, his mouth fucking _burning_ hot inside. I gasp out loud and then bite my lip again as he pulls back, looks up at me with those eyes. 

"Shh," he murmurs. "Gotta be careful." 

All I can do is nod as he returns to my cock, runs his tongue down the length of it, then up around the head. My thighs ache from tension, and all I want, all I fucking want, is to just thrust myself into his mouth, hard. Christ, Christ, I don't know how the night got here, but all I want now is more. I'm sweating hard, even though the night is cool, the breeze going through my hair. 

Tony has his hands hard on my hips, and he's _yanking_ me close, and everything's different, but I guess it's sort of the same, it's like before, 'cause it's not like I have to say anything. He _knows_ what I'm thinking. Knows what I want. His hands tug me close and his mouth is on my cock, and he's telling me to go ahead, to just go ahead, to thrust into his mouth, he knows what I want ( _I'm no cock-tease_ ) and he wants it, too. 

And I just hang onto the railing and my hips are thrusting forward, and jesus fucking christ, he just takes it, one hand wrapped around the base of my cock, and his mouth swallowing and sliding and licking the rest. I'm trying so hard to be quiet and it doesn't take long, one thrust, two, and I try to warn him, say, "Tony, man, _fuck_ , I'm..." 

And then oh fuck oh fuck oh _fuck_ I'm coming, hard, spurting into his mouth. And he's _swallowing_ me and that's maybe the hottest fucking thing ever. My knees buckle and only the railing behind me and his hand on my hip keep me from sliding down. My heart is beating so fucking hard that I can _hear_ it, and Tony's still on his knees in front of me. 

You want to know the funny thing? All I can think, as he pulls away, lets me slip out of his mouth, is that gentle kisses with Stella, even in the backseat of my car, are just never gonna compare to this. 

He sits back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I'm just leaning there, my legs so fucking weak from coming so damn hard. I still can't get enough air, and my brain won't work. 

"Jesus, Tony," I breathe. I reach down a hand to help him up. He staggers slightly into me, and I can feel him, again, hard against my hip. I was feeling totally _gone_ , but the feel of him ( _hard, he's hard, hard for me_ ) pressed against me is just _something_ and somehow I've pushed off the railing, have him pinned back against the house as I reach down between us, press my hand against his cock through his jeans. He gasps out loud and I smother the sound with my lips, kissing him hard. And the taste of his mouth, jesus, the taste of _me_ in there, all mixed with the taste of smoke, is so much, too much. 

Then his jeans are open and my hand is on him and I'm stroking him, hard and fast and rough. I can feel his breath hot on my ear as I jerk him, as he chants, real quiet, "Yes, yes, yes." He's got his hands on my waist, holding on as I brace him against the wall. He's hot and hard and leaking in my hand. I want to feel him come, want to make him to feel the way he made me feel. It's only a few strokes and he gasps, softly, into my ear, and his cock jerks in my hand, and he's spurting, all over my hand, all over his belly. 

I let go of him slowly, but stay up against him, pressing him against the wall, as our breathing slows down. The night is still really dark around us and for the first time I think of neighbors and glance around, glad we're in the shadows. I finally step back and we don't look at each other as we tuck ourselves in, straighten our clothes. 

Tony leans there against the wall for a second, as I stand there in front of him, uneasy. I can't see his eyes there in the shadows. Then I see the flash of his grin and he straightens up, runs his hand through his messed-up hair, pulls his jacket into place. "You got curfew pretty soon, don't you, Ray?" 

"Yeah, I... Yeah," I say, and I'm kinda surprised my voice doesn't sound shaky. 

"All right." He looks at me, as he pats his pockets down, looking for cigarettes. "I'm gonna take off." 

For a second, it's like my mind imagined the whole thing, 'cause this conversation is too normal. If my hand wasn't still sticky from his come, I'd think I made it up. 

He's got a cigarette now, and digs his lighter out of his pocket as he slips past me, goes down the porch steps. He stops at the bottom and I see the flash of the lighter, the tilt of his head as he lights the cigarette. He looks back up at me. "Hey, when's your car gonna be fixed?" 

"Uh, soon. Next week. Probably." 

"Good. I'm tired of walking everywhere." 

And suddenly my mind is full of what it might feel like to be in the backseat with Tony. Not sweet, soft Stella, but Tony, hard and sure and wanting me. I think I'm blushing and I'm glad it's dark. I wonder what happened here, wonder what changed. 

He heads off down the path to the street, gives me a backwards wave. "Night, Ray." And all I can see is the glow of his cigarette as he walks away. 

Maybe things aren't all that different. 

I'm hard again, I realize, and I stay there on the porch, have one last cigarette before going in. Try to calm down. My hands are shaking just a little. I crush out the cigarette and let myself in the back door. It's late. I'm wired, and I'm hard, and I'm thinking about Tony. I'll think about Stella tomorrow. Because it doesn't have to be all different. I love Stella, I really fucking love her. But Tony understands me, is all. He understands me real good. 

* * *

End Driven by witchbaby:

Author and story notes above.


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